David Wishart - Sejanus

'Never mind how,' I said. 'I know. And the emperor's going to find it pretty interesting too when I tell him.'

He gave me a look of pure horror. 'You'd tell Tiberius? Please, sir, it wasn't my idea, I only did what I was told. It was Eudemus and the mistress.'

Eudemus? Who the hell was Eudemus? A Greek, sure; but freedman? Slave? And the mistress… I tried not to let the puzzlement show in my face, but I needn't've worried: Lygdus was past playing games. The guy was in shock.

'Eudemus said there was no way of detecting it,' he said. 'None! He wasn't even suspected, none of us were, the death was put down to natural causes.' He was practically babbling. 'How can anyone know now, after eight years?'

I sat back, my brain numb. That made two of us in shock now. Oh, shit. Oh, Jupiter Best and Greatest. The mistress. Death by natural causes. Eight years. DC. All that could add up to just one thing.

He was talking about the Wart's son Drusus.

While he gibbered away I tried to remember what I knew already. Drusus had suffered from a chronic illness, something intestinal that had nearly carried him off ten years before. He'd survived that bout, only to succumb to a second attack two years later, and everyone had believed — still believed — that the death was natural. There was no question of poison at the time or subsequently, not so much as a hint or a wineshop rumour; I remembered Lippillus saying that when we'd first talked two months ago. Only now it transpired that the guy had been murdered after all. More: from Lygdus's mention of the mistress one of the murderers had been his wife Livilla. Who, much later and after a great deal of badgering on the Wart's new deputy's part, had finally been betrothed to Sejanus…

Gaius was right; this was major stuff. It put the lid on the case and screwed it down tight. When it got to Tiberius that Sejanus had rubbed out his only son and heir — and I'd wager a hatful of gold pieces to a bent cloak-pin that he'd been behind it — the Wart would cut the bastard's throat personally and whistle while he did it.

'Okay, pal,' I said. 'Let's have the whole story.'

Lygdus stared at me.

'But you said you knew!' he whispered.

'So I lied. You murdered Drusus, or helped murder him; that much I do know. And believe me it'll be enough for the emperor, too.'

'But I didn't!' He pulled his knees close in and hugged them. 'It was the mistress and Eudemus! I only — ' He stopped.

'You only poisoned the guy's porridge. Sure.'

His eyes widened. 'You're playing with me, aren't you?' he said.

'I am?'

'You know about the porridge!'

'You mean that was how it was done? Seriously?'

'Yes, of course. The master liked his porridge made with spelt. I put the stibium in that. A little every morning.'

'Uh huh.' Yeah, well, we were getting somewhere, anyway. The stuff was some kind of poison right enough. 'Who's this Eudemus?'

'The master's doctor.'

That made sense. A doctor would know about poisons, who better? Also when Drusus did fall ill he'd be the one to advise what to eat and what not. For an invalid he'd recommend a bland, simple diet; more spelt porridge, for example…

'He's still in Rome?' I said.

'I don't know. Probably. With the mistress.'

'Who's now betrothed to Sejanus?'

A long pause. 'Yes.'

'And they fixed this up among them? Livilla, Sejanus and the doctor?'

'Yes.' It was a whisper.

Gods! It added up! The timing and everything! Sejanus had had to go carefully; sure, Drusus had to die, but he couldn't die quickly because that would've raised unwelcome suspicions and anyway Sejanus had needed the time to consolidate his own position. Livilla was an ambitious bitch, I'd known that for years, ever since I'd talked to Gaius Secundus, in fact: the guy with the shattered leg who'd served with Drusus in Pannonia. She'd thrown in with Sejanus because the Wart was grooming Agrippina's two eldest for eventual succession after Drusus, leaving her boy Gemellus out in the cold. And Sejanus, for all his faults, was a real tomcat…

'Sejanus and Livilla were having an affair,' I said. 'Before Drusus died.'

'Yes.' Lygdus had given up. He sat slumped on the stool like a bag of flour.

'So they murdered him together. And then they began working on Tiberius to allow them to marry. Sejanus would have the imperial connection he needed to legitimise his succession, Livilla would found a dynasty instead of simply being the wife of a caretaker emperor.'

'Maybe.' Lygdus shrugged. 'If you say so. The mistress wanted him for himself. That's all I know.'

'Yeah.' I looked at him. The poor guy was a weed, a long strip of dripping, and not the murderer type. He reminded me a lot of Celsus. 'So. How did you get out?'

'I ran. It was simple enough. I'm not a fool, I knew some day there'd be an accident. Suburinus, the man who owns this place, knew I was a runaway slave, but I'm cheap. I work for my keep and no more so he's happy. It's better than being dead, anyway.'

'He know whose slave you are?'

'No!'

I nodded. No, he wouldn't, no way: you didn't mess with imperials. 'DC' could stand for anyone, and cheap labour didn't grow on trees.

Lygdus had been watching me.

'What are you going to do?' he said.

It was a question I'd been putting off asking myself. I couldn't leave the poor sod where he was, that was for sure. The minute my back was turned he'd head for the tall timber and I could whistle for my proof. At the same time, I wasn't under any illusions as to what Tiberius would do to a runaway slave who'd poisoned his son's breakfast; and I wouldn't wish that kind of death on anyone.

Hell. I had the details and I had the name of the doctor. That would have to be enough for the Wart. He could do his own dirty work.

'Can you write?' I said.

'No.'

'Yeah, I thought not.' I sighed. 'Just an idea. Okay, pal, what happens now is that I walk out of here and you rescue what's left of those rissoles from the cockroaches.'

He stared at me. 'You mean that?'

'Sure. They can't taste any worse than they probably would've anyway. Oh, by the way. What is stibium, exactly?'

'A kind of glittering metallic sand, Corvinus. It's mined in Asia Minor, among other places. Including Pannonia, incidentally.'

I whipped round. Felix was standing in the doorway. He wasn't smiling.

'The Greeks call it wide-eye,' he went on, 'because it's used to make eye-shadow paste; your wife probably has some in her cosmetic box. It's also, so I understand, employed medicinally as an astringent. For external application only, of course.'

No point asking the guy what he was doing here. I'd half-expected he'd follow me anyway. Gaius was the type to keep a check on his investments.

'You're telling me Drusus was poisoned with make-up?' I said.

'More or less. Amazing, isn't it?' Felix came in and hoisted himself onto the kitchen table. He hadn't looked at Lygdus, who was staring at him open-mouthed. 'Actually, Eudemus was being extremely clever, and it explains why no one suspected poison at the time. A single large dose would've produced obvious symptoms, naturally, but the effect of many small doses was cumulative and gave the desired impression of chronic illness. Drusus died very slowly, Valerius Corvinus, over a period of months, if not years, and his murderers watched him die. That's not pleasant. Personally I wouldn't waste my sympathy on them.'

Uh huh. 'Where's your friend Aristotle?' I said.

'Intimidating the owner. But he's within call, so I really wouldn't recommend any heroics.'

Yeah, well, it was worth a try. Unless he was lying again, but I wouldn't've liked to risk it. I turned back to Lygdus. The guy had gone as grey as his rissoles.

'I'm sorry, pal,' I said. 'It seems I've been overruled.'